


A nightmare dressed like a daydream

by Felicja_Julieanne



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Memories, Nightmares, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Poland needs a hug, Prussia is a dick, World War II, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 18:33:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15443259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felicja_Julieanne/pseuds/Felicja_Julieanne
Summary: If he manages to escape, he can go home, he can see his family, Toris, Lizzy. How long has it been since Feliks has seen or heard from any of them? Far too long for his liking. He knows being hopeful is the last thing he should be in his situation, but thinking of all the people he loves…He moves forward





	A nightmare dressed like a daydream

Everything around him is dark. There are only vague shapes of the furniture he manages to make out in the darkness surrounding him. He’s trying to manoeuvre his way around without making any noise - the only sounds Poland hears are the storm raging outside and his own heart, hammering inside his chest with anxiety. He’s doing his best not to let panic overwhelm him; he must be as quiet as he possibly can be. 

He makes his way from room to room, avoiding any furniture, or parts of the wooden floor making noise. It’s difficult in the dark, but he remembers how the house looks in the daytime well enough to be confident in moving forward. He can’t afford any mistakes or hesitation.

He finds it hard to breathe from the fear; his chest feels heavy, lungs filled with anxiety and sheer terror. But he doesn’t let that stop him, or scare him into going back; it’s now or never, he needs to be strong, he needs to  _ go.  _ This is his only chance to go back to freedom, to his life, his loved ones. He’s so close, he cannot back away now. If they catch him… at least he’ll die trying. That’s all that matters now.

Each and every step, he listens carefully for any kind of noise; footsteps, doors creaking, anything alerting him he needs to hide, or just run. So far there’s nothing. The mansion is pretty empty as it is, and everyone that’s inside is sleeping. Or so Feliks hopes.

He doesn’t know what hour it is when he actually makes it to the basement. It might be close to morning, or just barely after midnight - for Poland, walking down the way from the third floor to here felt like hours. Despite that, it’s the most alive he’s felt in years. The danger and fear he feels right now are a different kind from what he’s felt during his stay here. He knows there’s a high chance he’s going to die trying to get out. But at least he’s fighting. There’s still something left of that stubbornness he once had, a tiny part of him that wants him to fight for his freedom or die trying. 

It’s a comforting thought, almost. He’s either going to get out, or die. Both, Feliks is more than willing to accept. He’s had enough of this place. The things they’ve done to him made him crave the soothing release of death, one thing he never thought he’d want to experience. And yet there he is. Walking straight into death’s arms, ready to welcome it as if it were an old friend. He’s been holding on for too long, there’s almost no fight left in him. And the last bits he has, Feliks wants to at least try to use.

The basement corridors are cold and moist, and Feliks can feel the chill of the wind from the little windows on his face. He shivers, but continues walking forward - the hardest is behind him. All he needs to do now is get to the wine cellar, and then find the trap door. The moonlight peaks through the barred windows, and Poland sees his breath in the winter air. He couldn’t have chosen a worse time to flee - it’s winter, and he has no idea where the mansion is located, or how he’s going to get home. He’s hurt, and weak, his clothes are torn and thin, and he has nothing to protect him from the cold, wind or snow. But it’s the best opportunity he’s going to get.

He’s slowly making his way through the long and twisted corridors of the lower basement level when he stops, his heart instantly picking up. He heard something. He’s not sure what it was, but it was there, ahead of him. He’s not sure what to do - go back, or continue forward? It’s safer to go back, if he goes on and someone is there, he’s done- but he’s so close now. As close as he’s ever been. If he manages to escape, he can go home, he can see his family, Toris, Lizzy. How long has it been since Feliks has seen or heard from any of them? Far too long for his liking. He knows being hopeful is the last thing he should be in his situation, but thinking of all the people he loves… Poland wants to be with them again. And for once in the past three long, painful years, he think there’s a chance he might be able to. 

He moves forward.

The wine cellar is on the right, and without hesitating any more, he slowly opens the wooden door. He takes a step inside, and instantly, something pushes him to the closest wall. Feliks grunts painfully.

Feliks isn’t sure who it is, but they close the door instantly, and pin him to the wall.

“Did you really think you could just escape?” The familiarity of the voice stings Poland - of course, of all people to catch him, it had to be  _ him.  _

“What are you doing here?” Feliks asks bitterly. He knows the risks, he’s aware that any  second might be his last, so he’s hardly afraid. He hears the other man laugh.

“Can’t you be nice to me for once, Feliks?” Poland feels hands on his head, from which he flinches away. “Hey, don’t be like that. You used to love when I played with your hair.”

“That was before you turned out to be a treacherous scum,” Feliks hisses. “What the fuck do you want, Prussia?” Gilbert’s hand is caressing Feliks’ cheek, and Poland wants to back away, but Prussia is pinning him to the wall, so he can do nothing but try to struggle free. 

“Always had a dirty mouth,” Gilbert laughs. “Aren’t you the one who’s a treacherous scum now, though?” Poland freezes in his movements, which Prussia uses to his advantage - he grabs Poland’s chin and makes him look him in the eyes. He has a smug grin - like fucking always. “You’re not that different from me,  _ liebling _ . Just like I did, you betrayed someone who trusted you.”

“It was not me!” Feliks finds himself raising his voice. “I had  _ nothing  _ to with what happened,” he growls out, looking Prussia straight in the eyes. “I’m  _ nothing  _ like you. You’re a pathetic, worthless piece of garbage, a fucking heartless dick!” 

Gilbert laughs in response. “You’re still upset about me breaking your heart? Give it a rest, it’s been, what, five hundred years?”

“Never, till the end of my fucking days will I ever forgive you. You lied to me, you deceived me into thinking-” Feliks stops mid sentence, to which Gilbert sighs.

“Into thinking I loved you?” Poland thought it wasn’t going to hurt, hearing that. After all, it has been centuries, and he had moved on from Prussia a long, long time ago. But nevertheless, hearing Gilbert admit it is physically painful. 

It stings bitterly. It reminds him of Lithuania. And how much it stung when a man he loves so dearly told him he wishes death for him. To tell the truth? Feliks wishes death upon himself too.

“So many years and you still don’t want to say you were in love with me, huh? Is it really that hard to say?” Poland says nothing.

“And to believe you were so easy to fool,” Gilbert keeps on talking; Feliks’ eyes wander through the darkness; he doubts there’s any way for him to escape. “You and him were together for a good while, weren’t you? Hah... I’m sure he’s so relieved now. Twenty years and counting in blessed silence, away from your talking, and bragging, and nagging-”

“Don’t talk about him like that!” Poland hisses. “He’s not a scumbag like you! He loves me!”

“Oh, does he?” Prussia snickers. “If he loves you so much, where is he, huh? Where’s that knight in shining armour of yours?”

“He’s not like you,” Poland whispers. “He wouldn’t-”

“He wouldn’t leave you?” Prussia asks. “I dunno, Feliks… to me? Looks he already did.” Feliks closes his eyes, trying to focus on something else than Gilbert’s talking. 

_ He’s just trying to upset you,  _ Feliks thinks to himself.  _ Don’t let him get to you, he’s trying to get you angry, do  _ not  _ listen. _

“I bet you miss him, don’t you?” Gilbert’s one hand is still pinning his shoulder to the wall, while the other goes to Feliks’ slide, slowly sliding down. “You must be so lonely, all these years without him…”

The second Gilbert’s hand rests on Feliks’ hip, Feliks’ mind screams; he jolts away, but Prussia firmly grabs his hands and pins them above his head with one hand. Feliks doesn’t have the strength to escape his grip.

“Get off!” Poland hisses, his breathing quickening the moment he realizes what might be coming up. He wouldn’t…  _ would he? _

“How about we have some fun, huh?” Feliks tries to struggle away, but Gilbert holds his arms too firmly, and he is pushed against a wall, so he has no way to escape. 

With one swift move, Feliks finds himself turned around; his cheek and forehead scratch harshly against the rough wall. Soon after, Feliks can feel blood dripping down his face. He fails to notice when Gilbert ties his hands behind his back - where he’s gotten the rope from, Poland doesn’t know. 

“C’mon, don’t make it hard on me,” Gilbert laughs, as Feliks still continues to try struggling away from his grip. “Deep down you want that. You loved me, after all.” Prussia’s hands are quick to unbutton Feliks’ uniform; Poland feels Gilbert’s hand, caressing his stomach and chest. His head starts to spin, nausea hitting soon after. 

_ He’s not going to, he’s just trying to scare you, calm down, he won’t do it, he won’t- _

 

 

Suddenly, everything cuts out, and Poland finds himself in bed, his heart racing. He breathes rapidly, trying to locate where he is in the darkness. His eyes frantically go over the room, but it’s too dark to recognize. He’s still in the mansion, isn’t he? Prussia brought him back after he-...

Feliks sits up, instantly leaning down to suppress a wave of nausea caused by just the thought of what happened. It’s been haunting him in his dreams for days now, ever since his failed attempt to escape. To believe Prussia had actually-

“Feliks?” the blond freezes, hearing a voice behind himself. Why would anyone be in his room? And in the middle of the night, too…

He can almost feel his blood freezing in his veins when a reason pops into his mind.  _ No… no, no, nononononono- _

He jumps off the bed, and quickly makes a bee-line for the door, cursing silently when it refuses to open. 

“Feliks? Hey, are you-” The door springs open and Feliks runs, down the stairs, and towards the first room on the right. It’s the library, the biggest room in the house; if he hides well, Gilbert won’t find him.

It’s dark, and Feliks is too terrified to think straight, his mind only screams at him to get away, he feels as if he’s about to pass out, his heart is hammering so hard. He sits behind the desk, curling into a ball, feeling tears fall down from his eyes. He’s horrified and panicked, he doesn’t want to go through something like this again, he’d rather someone kill him than be humiliated and hurt like this once again, by Gilbert of all people.

Feliks is too caught up in his own mind and fear to hear the door open.

Toris carefully closes the door behind him, making sure to make as little noise as possible. It’s not the first time Feliks has lost his surroundings because of a nightmare; Toris knows what nightmare that would be, even. Only one makes Feliks hide, always in the study, curled up, shivering and crying behind the desk. 

Lithuania silently walks around the desk, and kneels next to Poland. He gently puts his hands on Feliks’ arms, and Feliks freezes.

“It’s me, Liks,” Toris says softly. Despite being calm - since he knows how to deal with all of that - it still pains him to see Feliks being so fragile and terrified. If only he could, he’d make sure no one would ever hurt his lover again. “It’s Toris. You’re okay, you’re not there, no one will hurt you.”

Despite the calming words, Feliks suddenly jolts away, clearly with an intention to run once more. Toris, being prepared, grabs his wrist, not allowing him to stand up from the ground, to which Feliks whimpers; Lithuania feels guilty, as he knows Poland is afraid, but so far he hasn’t found any other method to calm him down.

Toris pulls Feliks into his arms; the blond struggles and tries to push himself away, but Toris holds him firmly, trying to sooth him down with words.

“Lenkija, you’re okay, you’re with me, alright, love? I won’t let anyone hurt you, you’re fine with me here,” he keeps talking. After some time, Feliks gives up on getting away, instead he just starts sobbing, hanging his head. Toris lets him go. “Feliks, can you look at me?”

“P-please,” Feliks whimpers. “D-d… don’t-”

“Honey, I need you to look at me.” Lithuania grabs Feliks’ hands and caresses his skin calmingly; he could risk trying to lift Feliks’ head up to look at him, but the last time he tried it, Poland freaked out even more. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want you to open your eyes, and look at me.”

There’s a long moment of silence, Feliks no longer crying; instead, he sniffles every now and then, but he seems to actually be aware of Toris’s words now.

“All I want is for you to look at me. Can you do that? I promise I won’t hurt you,” Lithuania repeats, slower this time. Poland swallows hardly, and raises his head, looking at his lover. His eyes are red and puffy, and so are his cheeks, and Toris can see just how terrified Feliks is. “See?” Toris smiles at him. “It’s me. You’re okay now. There’s no one here that’ll hurt you.”

Feliks is only staring at him, saying nothing, eyes wide with shock. 

“Wh… why are you here?”  he finally stutters out. “Y-you… you shouldn’t be here.”

“Feliks-”

“Oh my God, why did they bring you here? What did you do? You should be at home! It’s my fault, isn’t it? Oh God, they brought you here cause of me-”

“Feliks.” Toris brings his hands up to cup Poland’s face. “It was just a bad dream.”

“Wh-what? How do you know? You shouldn’t-”

“Listen to me,” Toris interrupts him. “It was a nightmare, and you’re just confused. It’s 2017, remember? We met with Lizzy yesterday, she bought you this weird chocolate shake thing at Starbucks, you almost spilled it. We went shopping, you bought a new mascara, or whatever, some eye pencil thing. We got back home, ate lunch, and watched Supernatural until you fell asleep,” Toris sums up the previous day. “The war is long over. Everything is fine, ‘kay?” 

For a moment, Feliks just stares at him, his brows furrowed in confusion. He blinks a few times. And then, just as if nothing has happened, he looks around, unaware of where he is.

“I, uh… I blanked out again, didn’t I?” he asks, smiling sheepishly. Lithuania nods, lowering his hands to Poland’s shoulders. “Geez… it’s so weird… like, one second I’m dead sure it’s 1942 and I’m probably about to die any moment and then I’m aware that today sucked and I probably dozed off and didn’t even get to know how the episode ended…”

“It may seem weird, but aren’t all of us nations at least a bit weird?” Toris smiles at him, leaning down and kissing his forehead. “Okay now?”

“Yeah… I’m fine, I think. Probably won’t be able to fall asleep again, though… the dream’s… too vivid. I don’t wanna risk having to go through that again on the same night,” Poland mumbles, sighing heavily. He knows that he’s gonna take a couple of hours for the memories to wear off completely. Until then, he just has to get his mind off them somehow, until they stop bothering him so much.

“Well, it’s only 3 am. We have plenty of time to finish that episode you slept through. We can watch a few more too.”

“You know we’ll probably end up binge-watching the entire season? Or even a few?” Poland asks, smiling. He’s so lucky to have Toris… he wouldn’t be able to recover from such a dream if it weren’t for having someone to help him.

“Would you have it any other way?”

“Nope.”


End file.
